


All His Attention

by DisharmonicVoices



Category: Boyfriend to Death
Genre: Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Food Deprivation, Kidnapping, M/M, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sleep Deprivation, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, stalker au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 10:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisharmonicVoices/pseuds/DisharmonicVoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strade has been watching him carefully for two months. He's memorized his routine, dreamt about having him, holding him, keeping him, forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captured

**Author's Note:**

> In this, I guess you could call it, AU, Strade is less of a serial killer, and a lot more of a creepy stalker. He's much more interested in watching, and studying his victims before grabbing them. I would highly recommend not reading this if you are scared by thought of being stalked, or have been stalked previously. I don't want anyone getting freaked out or anything, I'm just writing this for shits and giggles.

Those golden eyes bore into the back of his head. They'd been watching him for almost 2 months now, watching him, learning every curve of his slender frame, memorizing every crease in his pale skin. The bus ride to and from his dingy, low paying job was almost too much for him. His clawed fingers gripped tightly on the bag which sat on his lap. His left hand curled around the pocket knife he now carried with him at all times, though he knew himself he was too afraid to ever use it, it made him feel better to carry it. He didn’t know when this stranger would grab him, but he was convinced he couldn’t keep the distance much longer. His legs shook as the city bus stopped in front of his grimy apartment complex, and he slowly stood. Behind him, he heard the shuffling of the stranger as he stood as well. Ren tried to scurry off the bus, but without drawing attention to himself. The person was coming closer than he had ever gotten. Ren fumbled in the bag to get his keys, and cursed when he dropped them on the pavement. He scrambled to pluck the jangly accessories from the nearly frozen ground. He unlocked the door so quickly one may be scared of snapping the key in half. He barely left room for his own slender body to fit through the gap of his front door, and the frame as he entered the warm apartment.  
The door slammed shut behind him, Ren’s tiny, fox heart beat wildly in his chest, and he pushed his weight against the wooden door, as he re-locked it. He glanced out the small, rectangular window. He was just standing there, on the opposite side of the street, staring. Ren tacked a blanket over the window, closed all the blinds, and locked every possible entrance. Too scared to feed himself, he dove into the pile of blankets that cover his bed. He shook, and cried softly with the howling wind which rattled his bedroom window. His ginger ears and tail peaked out of his body, until he finally gave up on concealing them. His tail curled around his body, and his ears lay flat against his head. His clawed fingers gripped, and poked holes in the cover of a pillow he held tightly to his own body. His whimpering cries became muffled by the layers of blankets, and the soft pillow he pushed his face into. It took hours for him to fall to sleep, and it wasn’t peaceful in the slightest.  
Ren’s gentle orange eyes shot open, hearing music begin to play from his phone. He groaned, and crawled out from under his fort of blankets. He shivered as his body was exposed to the cold morning air. He slid his phone open, and turned off his alarm. He dressed in his regular work outfit, red polo and khaki pants. He hesitated as he reached for the door lock. What if he was waiting outside for him? What if he was still standing across the street? What if those friendly, golden eyes were waiting for him, right outside the door?  
With a shaky hand, Ren moved the blanket he’d tacked to the door the night previous. Quick glances out of the small window proved no sign of his stalker, and so he cautiously opened the front door. Nothing.  
There was at least 5 inches of fresh snow covering the ground, and it didn’t help that the previous day everything had a glassy coat of invisible ice covering it. The bus would be late, again, that much was obvious. It was just easier for Ren to walk and be 45 minutes late, rather than over an hour and a half like yesterday. As Ren began to walk down the snow covered sidewalk, his orange eyes flitted over his blinding white surroundings. At least he’d be easier to spot in the weather. He couldn’t see the man, nor did he feel that intense stare, which never seemed to falter, but this only made him more uneasy, in a way. What if that man was waiting further up the path? Waiting for him in some freaky back alley way? Ren considered his options. He could call in sick, and risk the chance of not being able to pay this months rent, or he could call a taxi, which meant coming in even later to work, which meant he could lose his job. He considered taking a different path to work, that is, if he knew one. His feet slowed until he was standing in the middle of the snow laden sidewalk. He stared forward at the untouched powdery white, as the freezing air nipped at his nose. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, and face, and slowly turned around.  
He regretted this instantly. He felt two strong hands grip his shoulders. The tiny boy screamed, and fell backwards. It took him a moment of staring to realize, whoever this was wasn’t the person who’d been following him. He looked like a teenager, with black hair and cold grey eyes. Ren began to scamper backwards, pleading for his life. A hand shot out, and grabbed the boy, and dragged him back closer. A knife was pressed to his neck, and soft commands were whispered to him.  
“Don’t scream, don’t run, don’t move. Just do what I say, and you’ll be fine, alright?”  
Ren nodded frantically, careful to not press the flesh of his neck too far into the blade. The anonymous stranger pulled him to his feet, and pushed and kicked him into an alleyway. He backed Ren against the wall, and removed the poor creatures heavy coat, and pants he wore over his work clothes. He turned the boy, pushing his body against the stone wall, and tied his wrists painfully together. He kicked Ren’s legs out from under him, and proceeded to tie his ankles together. Ren listened as the strange man’s footsteps became more and more distant. He shivered, whimpering softly as he attempted to cut the ropes from his wrists, and vainly attempted to kick his legs. Numbness was spreading through his small body, and his tears seemed to freeze onto his cheeks in little rivers. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard gentle cooing, and what sounded like a German song, as he was lifted off the ground. He didn’t even think twice about curling up to the new source of heat. He whimpered as the other body melted away from his, but relaxed as he was set onto a soft cushion, surrounded by warm air. He felt his body relaxing, and a blanket was wrapped around his tiny frame. His eyes began to droop, and he eventually fell asleep in the backseat of a car.


	2. His Darling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> German Translation:  
> Liebling- Darling  
> Liebste- Sweetheart  
> Mein geliebte- my beloved  
> süßer- sugar  
> Mein kleiner fuchs- My little fox  
> Schatzi- Sweetie  
> German Song he sings: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6WM_at7r-sk

Ren woke slowly. Where was he? Why was it so dark? Why did his head hurt? He tried moving to stand up, only to find his arms were secured behind a pole, or beam of some sort. He dragged his legs up close to his chest, and whimpered, letting his eyes adjust to his surroundings. It was dark, and it almost looked like some sort of garage, or workspace. Power tools, and the smell of sawdust, it was familiar, in a way.  
What had happened to him? Ren shut his orange eyes, and tried to focus on his memories, which were inching back into his mind. He was walking to work, he got scared, and someone tied him up. And then, those glaring, golden eyes flashed in his mind, causing him to tense up.  
_“He Kidnapped Me_ ”.  
The words echoed in his mind, as he began to cry. He heard thumping footsteps to his left, and his head shot up as light filled his surroundings. It was _him_. The guy who’d been following him, his stalker. He whimpered, and shrunk against the beam, which supported his back. The man’s friendly smile, and bright golden eyes seemed so off putting. He kneeled down, and got close to Ren, his hand gripping the boy’s chin with the feeling of both strength, and gentleness.  
“Ren, are you scared? Oh, liebling, it’s okay.”  
“How, how do you, kn-know m-my name?!” Despite his, hardly existent, efforts, Ren’s trembling lower lip caused his words to come out soft, afraid, and stuttering.  
“Oh, liebste, it’s okay.” The man kneeled forward, gently placing his lips on Ren’s cheek. “It’s just me, remember? It’s Strade.”  
Ren’s sweet, fox heart thumped loudly in his chest, and his breaths came out fast and frantic. He watched with wide eyes as the man stood again.  
“Why did you do this?! Why were you stalking me, you freak!!”  
The man, whose name was apparently “Strade”, frowned softly. He raised a hand, and hit Ren across the face, causing the small fox boy to yelp, and whimper out in pain.  
“My darling, please don’t raise your voice.” He felt those warm lips where he’d been hit. “I don’t like hurting you. I’m just trying to protect you, keep you safe.” The man’s hands were running up and down, along Ren’s sides. The fox shuddered, and shifted nervously, trying to get himself as far away from the German man as he could possibly get. Strade leaned in again, one hand holding the back of his head as he pressed their chests together. He pressed his face into Ren’s soft, ginger hair, and smiled.  
“You’re just how I always knew you’d be, meine geliebte.” The fingers of his free hand traced small circles in Ren’s thighs. “So beautiful, sweet, and fragile, oh, my darling.”  
Ren felt Strade kiss him, and fearful, he stayed still as he felt a strong tongue push past his lips. Strade seemed to never want to pull away, as if he had found his new passion, and Ren was afraid he had. Finally, the fox got a moment to breathe, and he coughed a little, his head hanging low near his chest.  
He hardly registered Strade pulling a knife from a holster at his hip.  
“My darling, do you bleed as beautifully as I imagine?” At first it didn’t hurt, then pain shot through the cut and into his leg. Ren screamed, not only at the pain, but at the sight of his own blood as it flowed down the pale skin of his inner thigh. He felt sudden release on the top of his head, and near his lower back. His entire body froze up. He’d really fucked himself over this time.  
He heard the hunting knife clatter on the cement floor, and watched from half lidded eyes as Strade stepped back.  
“Süßer. . .” He spoke softly, “this is so, unexpected.” Ren looked to his captor, hoping the revelation he wasn’t human would give the man a reason to let him go. But he saw that glint of brightness in those ferocious golden eyes. He flinched back as a hand stroked one of his ears, and gently tugged it.  
“What are you, exactly?”  
Ren whimpered, wishing he didn’t have to tell the deranged man, but knew nothing good would come of keeping his mouth shut.  
“I’m a Kitsune.” He spoke softly, and hoarsely with a dry throat from screaming. “I’m, well, a fox.”  
Strade slowly untied Ren, and examined his hands. Ren stayed frozen in place, fearing retaliation. “So beautiful,” Strade’s hands began to travel up his arms, to his ears, and then down his back to his fluffy, orange tail. “How could I ever let you go now?” He leaned forward, gently rubbing his stubbly cheek on Ren’s. “Mein kleiner fuchs. . . .” He muttered softly, his knife slicing it’s way past the fabric of Ren’s clothing. The boy whimpered as Strade began to rub him, and he shifted uncomfortably. He shuddered as he heard the clicking of Strade’s belt coming off, and looked at the German’s lust-filled eyes.  
“I have been waiting for this moment. Are you glad, that I’ll be your first?”  
Ren whimpered as he felt Strade’s cock rub against him, and begin to slowly push in. Strade positioned Ren the way he wanted, the fox’s legs wrapped around his torso, and his hands behind his neck. He groaned as he pushed his way inside. Ren yelped, and scratched Strade’s back as he was forcefully stretched open. Tears ran down his cheeks, washing away what was left of the concealer he used to hide the triangles under his eyes. Strade gripped Ren’s shoulders roughly, and began thrusting inside of him. Ren cried out again with every motion of the man’s hips. It felt like he was being torn open, and he cried out as if he was. This only seemed to excite his captor more, as his hip movements became more rapid, and lost any sense of pattern. He pushed Ren’s back onto the cold cement floor, pinning his hands over his head. He grinned wildly at the sight of Ren’s face as he was fucked so roughly. Strade’s hand moved down, slowly pumping Ren’s member as he continued to thrust into him.  
“I love you so much, my little fox. I’m so glad we’re finally together~” Strade let out a deranged, half-laugh and continued his rough hip movements. Ren looked away from Strade, fearful of the glare of his eyes. Ren could feel the warmth building, and couldn’t help but let out a loud, whimpering moan as he came. Strade grinned wildly.  
“Liebe, you look so beautiful like that~ hehehe. Hold out just a little longer, okay, love? I’m almost there.” Ren whimpered, and his claws dug into his own hands, drawing blood as Strade increased his pace yet again. It wasn’t much long after that he felt himself filled with something hot, and liquid. Again, he couldn’t help but moan when it happened.  
He was panting, whimpering, and crying all at the same time, and Strade slowly pulled out. He felt those strong arms pull him off the ground, and into a tight, warm embrace. Ren went limp as he was lifted off the ground, and felt himself being carried. He listened, as Strade sang softly.  
_“Du bist mein allerliebster schatz~ An deiner seite ist mein platz~”_  
He looked up to Strade, as he was set on a couch, and a blanket was wrapped around him. He was so racked with shock, and confusion that he could only think to wrap the blanket tightly around him. He then looked down to his hands, which had small puncture wounds from his claws. Strade returned, still humming that tune. He had a brown bottle, cloth, and bandages. Ren stared confusedly, and watched as Strade took one of his hands.  
“Oh, liebe, look at that. You’ve hurt yourself. Here, this might sting a little, okay?” He wetted the cloth with the liquid inside the brown bottle, and gently pressed it to the puncture wounds. Ren winced, it did sting. It was hydrogen peroxide, and it bubbled as it came into contact with his blood. Strade repeated the process with his other hand, and proceeded to wipe the fox’s palms with another cloth, that had just water on one side, and he would dry his hand with the other before placing a bandage across the marks. Ren continued to watch as Strade moved the blanket away from Ren’s thigh.  
“Such a beautiful red. . . I’ve never seen anything more lovely.” Ren grimaced, and watched in disgust as Strade leant in, and gently kissed the wound. He winced as Strade’s tongue flicked out, and gently licked the wound as well before pulling back. “This one is gonna hurt even more, be strong, my fox, I know you can be.” He kissed Ren on the lips gently before pressing the peroxide, and blood soaked cloth to Ren’s thigh. The fox whimpered, and gripped the edges of the couch tightly. Strade began to sing again, as he wiped the blood away from the wound.  
_“Du bist mein kleiner sußer Schnuffel .Du bist mein kleiner sußer Stern, hab dich zum kuscheln gern.”_  
Ren watched the large wound be cleaned, and properly bandaged by the man who’d captured him, and given it to him in the first place.  
Strade clapped his hands together, admiring his work.  
“Wunderbar. . . Now!” He held out a small box to Ren. It was, cute. A small gift box with blue paper, and a soft yellow ribbon. Ren took it cautiously.  
That colour scheme had always appealed to him, but how did this psycho know that? Did he know that? Was it just a coincidence? No, it couldn’t have been.  
“Open it, Schatzi~”  
Ren’s hand trembled, as he lifted the lid from the gift box. It was some sort of, metal looking, ring, thing. Strade gleamed proudly, and lifted it out of the box, and showed Ren that it opened.  
“I thought that I should get you a gift, to celebrate us finally being together~ This seemed perfect.” He locked the metal ring around Ren’s neck. The fox was panicking. “Ah, just as I knew, it looks so great on you! And this way you can never leave me!” Strade pulled the fox in close, and hugged him tightly.  
Ren trembled, not returning the “affection”. His gaze was frozen downward, and tears filled his eyes again. He was trapped here.  
Forever.


	3. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleep Deprivation, Food Deprivation, Self Harm

Strade beamed happily, resting his hands on Ren’s shoulders.  
“Let’s go and get some sleep, hm? You look a bit tired.” Strade stood up, and scooped the fox into his arms. “You look so cute with your little ears and tail~ You should keep them out all the time!”  
Ren nodded. “O-okay.” His voice was soft, and trembling. But there was, something oddly comforting about being cradled so closely, and with such care. In any other circumstances, Ren would feel at peace, and content, but he couldn’t stop his body from shivering.  
He was laid down onto a bed, and felt Strade lay next to him.  
“I hope you don’t mind, liebling. I don’t want to be away from you just yet, so I wanted to lay with you.” The German’s strong arms wrapped around him again, holding his back up against his chest. Ren closed his eyes, and tried to relax, though this was nearly impossible. It seemed as though Strade had already drifted off, and when Ren peeked over his shoulder, those bright golden eyes were finally shut. He didn’t want to fall asleep, the thought of being unconscious in this maniacs arms made him feel sick. He gently grasped the heavy metal collar around his neck. It was cold, and he could feel the ridges of where it opened. He tried to tug, and pull at it without waking Strade, but, obviously, nothing happened. He looked at the faint red glow given off by collar. It had a green light when he’d put it on. He figured it must mean the collar was locked in place, electrically.  
He did everything he could to try and stay awake, pinching himself, making very small cuts on his wrists and arms with his claws, but eventually he gave out, and fell into a deep state of unconsciousness.  
Morning light began to stream into the room. Ren whimpered softly, and tried to turn away from it. It took him a moment to register the heavy arm around his body, and he froze up. His tail curled up around him, and he held onto it. The body next to him began to move, and shift. Ren couldn’t help but shake, out of fear. There was a low groan, and he felt the body pull away from him. He stayed in his tight ball, clutching his own tail as he felt warm lips touch his cheek.  
“Guten morgen, my little fox.” Strade spoke softly, whispering to Ren, before getting out of the bed, and stretching. Ren sat up slowly, fearfully, and stared at Strade. He felt so, exposed, and his tail moved to cover himself. Strade laughed softly, seeing Ren’s brightly coloured cheeks, and the nervous twitching of his ears, and hands.  
“Here, I have some clothes for you.” Ren looked up at his captor as he moved to a dresser in the corner of the room. He brought over, what looked to be, a loose-fitting long sleeve shirt, and some sweatpants. It may have been a normal enough combination, but these garments looked exactly what he’d wear on his days off in his apartment. He took the clothes anyway, and nodded his head, keeping his gaze down, not daring to look at that maniacs face. He muttered a soft, “thank you” before properly dressing himself. He didn’t know what was creepier, that Strade knew what clothes he liked to wear, or the fact he knew exactly what sizes to buy. Ren felt himself be pulled off the bed, and into those strong, somehow comforting arms once again. He was carried downstairs, and set onto the floor of the kitchen. The nails on his feet gently clicked on the linoleum when he was set down.  
“You should eat. I know you don’t normally eat right after you wake up, but it’s been almost a day!” A hand tilted Ren’s chin up, and he looked at his captors face. Those Golden eyes wouldn’t stay still, always travelling, and studying his expression, his body, taking in every tiny detail. “So precious, so sweet, and fragile.” Ren was pulled into another tight embrace, strong hands squeezing tightly just below his shoulder. The hands slowly released their grip, as Ren whimpered, knowing he’d have good sized bruises for the next week or so.  
“Ren.” His voice had dropped, and the seriousness of his tone sent shivers crawling up the fox’s spine. He looked up slowly, eyes already brimming with tears. “Why, are you crying?” Strade wiped the newly forming tears away. “Don’t you love me? You should be happy. Why don’t you love me yet?!” His brow furrowed, he was becoming angry. Ren tried to save himself, but only ended up fumbling with hs words, which hardly came out as audible ramblings. Rage was growing in his captor’s fiery golden eyes, and Ren yelped as he was pulled back up the stairs, trying desperately to keep up. He was brought into a mainly barren room, except for a pile of blankets, and a post in the center of the room. Ren was still, or at least as still as he could be while still shaking out of fear, and exposure to the cold room.  
Strade locked another metal ring round his right wrist. It was tight, and heavy. He was chained to the post in the center of the room by a 5 ft. chain leash, one that looked like it was for a dog. Strade stood in the doorway, staring coldly at the fox.  
“You will learn to love me.”  
The door slammed shut, causing the poor fox to flinch back. He crawled to the pile of blankets, and curled up on top of them. He whimpered softly, and pushed some of the blankets over his body. It felt warm, and safer there beneath the soft cloth, barricading him from the cold air of the room he was now locked up in. He was more relaxed, not being held so tightly by Strade. It took a while, but he eventually fell asleep.  
Pain began to rise up through Ren’s body. He sat up, groggily, and tried to stand up, before being yanked back down onto the ground. He groaned as he hit the ground, taking a moment to take in his surroundings. He remembered everything in a flash, and the pain shivered through his body once again. When was the last time he had eaten? He whimpered, and looked at the door, to the chain holding him to the floor, and to the bright blue sky outside his window. He paced around the chain’s post on all fours, trying to see if there was a way to unhook himself, but there didn’t seem to be a way. He whimpered softly, and sat back on top of the blanket pile. It was the one thing giving him any semblance of comfort. He cleared his dry throat, and tried to speak, but even gently calling the name of his captor was enough to cause his voice to tremble, shake and crack. He could hardly speak above a whisper. He whimpered, his ears flattening against his head. He shifted, so his hands could get a good grip on the floor, and he began scratching. As much as he didn’t want to see that maniac, he needed to eat, he needed to stay alive. He still had a chance, his manager might call the police, someone could find him. He was, so weak, however. He tried his best, but only managed little scritches, and chipping away at the wooden planks. It wasn’t much different than him just walking around. He whimpered again, and made a soft, kind of yipping sound at the door. He hoped to get Strade’s attention in that way, but after a few minutes, he stopped. He whimpered, hearing his stomach growl. His whole body felt tired, and weak. He limply flopped back onto the pile of blankets, his left arm extending out a bit, to give the chain more leverage. He whimpered softly, hunger pangs crawling up his body once more, before he slept again.  
It was dark when he woke up. His head was pounding. It felt like someone had tied a rope around his head, and was pulling it tighter and tighter. His head felt like the pictures of those, watermelons with all the rubber bands around it. Like, it might explode at any moment. His heart, was racing, and he began panting. He looked around the room, eyes locking onto a glass, mixing bowl placed just within his circle of reach. He weakly crawled over to it, and began to drink from it once he saw it was filled with water. The refreshing liquid was gone quickly, and Ren closed his eyes, taking deep breaths now as his heart calmed down to its normal pace. When he opened his eyes again, something caught his attention. There were, words painted on the bottom of the bowl. Ren picked up the glass in his clawed hands, which gently clinked when they made contact.  
 _“You Don’t Love Me Yet”._  
Ren stared at the words, confusedly. They were hand painted on the bottom of the bowl, like some kind of cryptic, secret message. Ren set the bowl back down, and paced around in a circle around the post he was chained to. He wanted to stay awake, wanted to know if Strade would come and see him again. It was him who’d brought the water, after all, he’d come back to get the bowl, wouldn’t he?  
Despite his best efforts, Ren passed out on the wooden floor. The combined lack of food and water, though he’d just been given some was still severely dehydrated, made him exhausted. His body wasn’t used to this kind of torture, and no one should be. When he woke up, the bowl was still there, and it was still empty. Ren considered breaking the bowl, but feared it would anger Strade far too much. When he was awake, he would yip, and make soft fox-like noises at the door, hoping to god Strade, or someone else, would hear him and bring him food and water. He lost track of the days, being exhausted so often he slept whenever he needed to, and could only guess the time of day without knowing if night had passed or not. Once, when he woke up, the sky was overcast, and gloomy. Snow was falling silently outside, and Ren had no idea what time it was. He felt so hopeless, lost, like he was going to die. Then, he noticed the bowl had been filled with water again. He greedily lapped it up, hardly even taking in air as he gulped down the water. When it was gone, he looked at the bottom, noticing the message was still there, painted inside the bowl.  
_“You Don’t Love Me Yet”_.  
Ren whimpered, and sat down, leaning against the pile of blankets. The pain of hunger had subsided. He felt, empty. It hurt a little when he had drank the water, but it wasn’t much. Not compared to what Strade had done to his thighs. But his ribs were showing, a lot more than they used to. He ran his fingers over them, and shuddered. He could have sworn his skin looked paler than usual. After thinking it over, Ren made his decision. He wasn’t going to sleep until Strade came back. He’d have to have been filling the water bowl at some point, and that seemed to be the only way Ren would get his attention. For the next hour, maybe two or three, he couldn’t tell how much time had passed anymore, he formulated the way in which he would beg to Strade, proclaiming his love, and desire for him. He wanted it to sound genuine, needed it to. His life depended on the way he spoke to Strade when, and if, he were to come back.  
Ren was alone with himself for a little while after, and he crossed his legs, sitting against the blanket pile. A sharp pain ran through his leg, and he remembered the cut on his thigh. He had nearly forgotten about it until now. He pushed the sweatpants off his legs, and gripped the ace bandage wrapped around his thigh. His little claws cut easily through them, and he studied the wound Strade had given him the first night. It was kinda gross, he had barely paid any attention to the wound, and had completely forgotten to remove his bandage. He felt like gagging, the skin around the cut was white, and starting to turn a disgusting green and yellow, along with it being bruised from where Strade had gripped him too tightly. He threw the old bandages across the room, and left his sweatpants off. He knew he had to open the cut again, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.  
He also had to stay awake. He needed Strade to come back for him, and soon. He stared out the window, letting out a heavy sigh as a small bird landed on the sill, outside. He felt jealous, and want as he stared at the avian. He wished he could fly away, as far away from Strade as he could get. But, he also remembered he hadn’t eaten since god knows when, and though he didn’t feel hungry any more, knew he needed to eat.  
The sky seemed to be growing darker, though it was hard to tell because of the clouds. He wondered what time it was, how much time had passed, if anyone had called the police. He wondered if Mama Fox knew he was gone, if she was worried. He wondered, if no one called. Was nobody worried about him? Would he never be found alive? Would they be digging up the basement of this house 50 years from now and find his bones? He shuddered, gripping the blanket tightly in his hands. He pushed his way underneath the mountain of warm, cozy blankets. His eyes began to drop, as he blocked out the questions, and visions of his own demise playing in his head.  
He shook himself back into reality. He _had_ to stay awake. He _needed_ Strade to come back for him. He gently pushed his claws against his arm, not enough to break the skin, but enough to make small indents. He gulped hard, and raked his claws across his arm. He yelped out in pain, and whimpered. The shock would keep him awake for a little bit longer. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to repeat the action again.  
He had no inclination as to what time it was, or how many minutes had passed, but it looked like nighttime. The sky was practically black, and there wasn’t even the looming silhouette of the trees he’d watched so closely in nights previous. Ren was lain across the wood floor, keeping himself away from the warmth and comfort provided by the blankets. He shivered as he lay there, legs naked and exposed. He ran his fingers gingerly across the infected scab on his thigh, poking and prodding it if he ever felt too tired. Time seemed to continue on forever, until he heard the sound of heavy boots in the hallway just out of his reach, begin to slow. His ears perked up and his heart began to race as the handle turned. He sat up painfully, watching with anticipation as the door swung open.  
It was dark, but no doubt it was Strade, he could practically see the man’s intense golden eyes slicing through the shadows. Ren moved forward a tiny bit, and Strade set something down, and quickly dropped to Ren’s side, bringing him into a close embrace.  
“You love me, you really do love me! Oh, my little fox, I’m so happy!” Strade unhooked Ren’s wrist from the central post, and lifted him off the ground. Ren, began to nuzzle him. After god knows how long he was alone, the touch and warmth of another person, it felt so, right. His tired hands gripped at Strade’s shirt, and his tiny body squirmed, as if trying to get even closer than he already was. As Strade kissed his face, he smiled.


	4. Syndrome

Strade carried his fox back downstairs. The poor thing felt like paper. Strade set him on the couch, and kissed his face again.   
“Let me get you some food, okay schatzi?” Ren nodded, and pulled a blanket around his frail body. Strade sighed, looking at Ren’s horribly pale skin, his ribs nearly poking through the shirt he wore, and the deep set bags which complimented the dead look in his eyes. He kissed Ren’s face gently, on his forehead, both his cheeks, then his lips, before strolling into the kitchen. He returned with a few things in hand, a handful or individually wrapped energy bars. He placed them on Ren’s lap with a smile.  
“Here, love, eat these while I get dinner ready.” Strade returned to the kitchen as Ren began eating. He felt guilty, having to keep his sweet little fox locked up for so long. It had been so hard for him not to take him out earlier. He heard his little scratches on the floor, his frantic running, his soft and sweet whining. It almost made him cry, listening to it, knowing his precious fox was in so much pain, but it was for his own good. Now his precious fox truly did love him. Strade prepared an extravagant meal for his sweetie, consisting of potatoes, corn and a very special “steak” his last toy had so graciously provided them. He was pleased with how happily his darling ate with him, even commenting that the steak was amazing. After the plates, pans and everything had been half heartedly stacked in the sink Strade took his fox up into his arms again.  
He sat down on the couch holding his fox close, wrapping them both up in a blanket. For a while, they just sat there in silence. Ren pressed his ear up against Strade’s chest to listen to the happy thumping of his heart. After a while, Strade began to hum softly, his chest vibrated slightly, making Ren smile. He cleared his throat, and began speaking to his fox.  
“Are you happy here, liebling?”  
Ren didn’t look up at him, though he could feel Strade peering down at him. “I’m happy with you.” Strade raised an eyebrow as Ren looked up to him. “I’m happy if I’m not alone.”  
Strade frowned a little, and adjusted his hold on Ren. “I know. I’m sorry my darling.” He began pressing gentle kisses to Ren’s face. “I didn’t want to keep you locked away like that, but I had to. It broke my heart hearing your panicked little whimpers and scratches. But now we can be together forever, yeah?”  
The fox boy nodded with a soft smile pinned on his cheeks, and he laid his head across Strade’s shoulder as he moved up into his lap. Strade smiled, gently running his hand up and down Ren’s back.   
“You want to stay with me, don’t you?” Strade asked, looking down to his fox. It didn’t really matter what he answered, since he would be staying here forever anyway.   
“I want to stay with you. You’re comfy. . .” The boy’s voice trailed off, and he gently nuzzled against his captor. He didn’t seem so scary, or intimidating anymore.   
That night, Strade showed his love to Ren. He claimed him, over, and over again, until neither could stand to be awake any longer. Ren learned to be a good boy, and was obedient to Strade. He learned quickly, he would never escape from him, not that he really wanted to. As long as he was there with him, Ren didn’t mind. He didn’t mind at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End??? Maybe?   
> I probably won't update this unless I have some Earth shattering new idea, so we can count this as the end for now!


End file.
